


without the bitter the sweet isn't as sweet

by wistfullywishing



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Breakups, Inspired by food, Light Angst, M/M, Not Serious, Regret, Remix, Sad Ending, Speed Dating, hints of memes, mentions of other exo members - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 17:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9282437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wistfullywishing/pseuds/wistfullywishing
Summary: EXO remix of Two-Minute Romance by M.T. Anderson.





	

**Author's Note:**

> As much as I would like to take credit for this idea, the inspiration for this came from a chipotle bag
> 
> lol spot the exo memes

Chanyeol was, regrettably, still single. 

Eight minute dating had been a terrible disaster. A complete waste of taxi fare and the half hour it had taken to press his “sex on legs” shirt. He made sure to tell Kyungsoo so as he entered their shared apartment that night. 

“Try five minute dating next time. Might be better. Maybe people give more of themselves away when they know they have less time,” his shorter roommate advised. 

Five minute dating was even worse. It was too desperate, too trivial, too glib. After a particularly miserable evening, Chanyeol dragged Kyungsoo out for drinks. He'd lost track of how many rounds they'd had, but Kyungsoo still seemed far too sober for him, so he figured they were fine and far from making irreversible mistakes. 

“Let's institute a service for five minute breakups,” he said then, because why not?

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo began. “You're drunk.”

“No, I'm not. Come on. It's a good idea. Aren't you tired of all this dating without success?”

“Excuse you, I have plenty of success in the dating field.”

“Oh, really,” Chanyeol deadpanned. “What was the name of that last guy you dated? The one with that terrible perm. That was, what, like three months ago?”

“I liked that perm.”

“The fact that you're choosing to focus on arguing about the perm means I'm right.”

“It's a stupid idea.”

“Just think about it. Trust me on this one,” Chanyeol said as he stood. “I'm going home. That guy next to the bar over there's been eyeing you for the past half hour, though.”

A week later, Kyungsoo came home from another date with the guy from the bar. The guy apparently was obsessed with puppies and was actually rather shy, Chanyeol had noticed, despite the aura of confidence he seemed to carry around. 

“We're starting the service for breakups,” was the first thing out of Kyungsoo’s mouth when he returned that night and flopped on the couch. “It's a stupid idea, but so is everything else right now.”

So they did. Their first event was a huge success. No one ended up together. “What a relief,” a man whose husband had left him with ten kids, Chanyeol later learned, said that night. “I'm tired of watching other people get lucky.”

And so it went each week. They rented out a small place across the street from the bar they frequented. Women and men rotated from table to table. Everyone would sit down, confront a face they'd never seen before, and spit out something like, “I'm so sick of this garbage. You always do this. Prioritizing your guitar before me.” Or, playing with the stem of a wine glass, “Yeah, hey, there's something I've been wanting to talk to you about.” Or people would just yell that it was over, okay, over and quit calling me your Golden Bun. The only unspoken rule in the place: no dating. 

Five minutes turned out to be too long for most breakups. People ended up trapped together at tables with nothing to say, except for a select few who liked to enumerate faults, like one man who wished to stress that everything his partner did was not his style, and please stop. 

The next Friday, Chanyeol sat down with Kyungsoo. “Let's cut it down to two minutes.”

At their next event, a petite male sat down across from Chanyeol. He had thin lips and tastefully done eyeliner, and Chanyeol was mesmerized when he announced with a glimmer in his eye, “I don't have time for this anymore.” 

“I-,” Chanyeol tried to defend himself, searching for something interesting to say, but he had not gotten a word out when the other male interrupted. 

“Don't tell me that you didn't pass out flat drunk in Sehun’s stupid bubble butt,” he accused with a fiery spirit unmatched by anyone else in Chanyeol’s book, and the two had to struggle to keep from laughing. 

Chanyeol played along. “Sehun was the one who tried to seduce me, first. And he wouldn't even have had the chance to if you hadn't left me alone with him to fawn over Zitao and his wushu skills.”

“Maybe Zitao and his wushu skills looked like they had the ability to actually make me feel something in bed. Had to look elsewhere since you couldn't be anything but vanilla,” his partner bit back, a coy smile playing at the corner of his lips, and did he just go there?

“I'll show you something other than vanilla,” Chanyeol hissed across the table, a fake expression of outrage plastered on his face, which only made the other male’s grin widen. He leaned forward. 

“I. Dare. You,” he whispered mockingly, barely hiding his laughter and not even bothering to try hiding his appraisal as his eyes swept over Chanyeol's chest, collarbones, arms. The neon signs of the bar across the street flickered, casting shadows over his partner’s face and eyes, making his features looking sharper than they were, making him look absolutely delectable. 

Chanyeol forgot about the game and time passing. He was stunned by the poise of the smaller male’s humor, the arch of his eyebrow, the quirk of his lip, oh, those lips. He wanted to touch, to taste, to feel. Toward the close of the segment, as time grew short, he wondered if the other male wanted to exchange numbers and names, too, to play a different game. 

These things have their format, however. 

It happened so quickly. Chanyeol's partner reached toward his wrist, and in that split second Chanyeol saw clearly the daintiness of the hand closing towards his own. Before he had time to think, the rules flashed in his head: it was over between them, and he reared back in a panic. The other male blinked in surprise, an expression of hurt flickering across his face before he had covered it with something else, something colder. Chanyeol didn't have time to think about what he might have just done before his partner was swearing again, resuming the charade. 

“I hope you and Sehun have a great life,” he spit out, real anger this time. 

“And I hope Zitao can satisfy your needs,” Chanyeol sneered back maliciously, wondering what he was doing but not bothering to stop. As the buzzer signaled the two minutes were up, Chanyeol and the smaller male gave each other the finger and stormed off in opposite directions. Briefly, Chanyeol turned, watching the pretty boy with the eyeliner go, and debating going after him. He wanted to, so much, and he almost did, but as he stepped in that direction, he remembered rules were rules. On his way to the door, Chanyeol passed Kyungsoo and another taller, slimmer male still engaged in their exaggerated, heated battle over who was manlier than the other. 

During his walk home, Chanyeol thought of what Kyungsoo had told him before all of this began. Perhaps people really do give more of themselves away when they know their time is limited. A cold breeze blew, and Chanyeol wrapped his coat tighter around himself and quickened his pace. 

Late that night as he ate alone, there was a great wind in the streets and squares of Seoul. The pigeons moved restlessly on the flashing of the roofs, and Chanyeol stared out from the glass wall of his apartment overlooking the blinking lights of the city and pondered what might have been. 

**Author's Note:**

> i might write a sequel to this one if i get asked


End file.
